Here it is, my last night in Arequipa. I waited at the home for one of the girls to come home from work, so I could say goodbye to her. Mirella will be gone when I get there tomorrow morning. We had a good chat together, and a less difficult goodbye this time, because this time we knew I would be back, and with my family.
Mirella is a very bright young girl. She has just finished high school, and as I understand it, she has the Peruvian equivalent of the SAT coming up in April. If she does well enough, and God provides a way, she might be able to fulfill her dream of going to the university and becoming a psychologist. Pray for Mirella.
I got back to the hotel later than usual, but I still went back out. I wanted to walk up to the Plaza de Armas, the big public park about a mile away, which is surrounded by all sorts of shops and restaurants. I bought a coffee at the Cusco Cafe, and decided to just walk around the plaza until I was finished drinking it. As usual, there must have been a thousand people milling about.
As I walked along in front of the big cathedral, I noticed a young girl who was helping out a very old woman. This girl looked straight at me and began to say something. I immediately expected a plea for help or money, but as she began I could swear I recognized her. I listened to her very quite voice as she asked, “Are you a pastor?” and “Have you been to the Casa Hogar Torre Fuerte?”